


Welcome to the Cherubim

by CaffeinatedQueer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedQueer/pseuds/CaffeinatedQueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a young man, Gabriel followed his dream of opening up a cafe. Ten years down the road, he's faced with the realization that while he ages, his customer base from the local university does not. And he doubts any amount of trendy fair trade coffee will make up his age difference with the handsome young Sam Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing a post asking for a coffeeshop AU written by a barista, I had to try. Keep in mind that this is written from a barista's viewpoint and some things might seem odd to someone who doesn't know coffee. I'll include a little explanation of lingo and recipes in the end notes.

**Chapter 1**

“It’s amazing how time passes when you’re focusing on a stubborn chocolate stain.” His pruned fingers set the mug down with a satisfied ‘click’ as Gabriel scanned the coffee shop. “It’s a whole new crowd in here now.”

“Back to Earth, Gabe? Dinner crowd’s gone, study crowd expected in about an hour. The first wave of evening classes ends in thirty.” The young woman at the register reported, checking the clock.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Biff,” he chuckled, “school year’s just started. No one’s found us quite yet; or at least figured when they can fit us into their new schedules.”  

After he dried his hands from dishes, Gabriel took a cursory glance in the mirror under the menu board. His light brown hair had managed to stay tucked behind his ears, so far so good, but at the ripe age of 35 the lines around his eyes were finally starting to betray him. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with these college kids for very much longer.

“They really shouldn’t have much studying to do, either,” she agreed.

He took a glance at the young student in contrast. Biff, short for Elizabeth, was only a sophomore at the local university. She’d come to him last year. The spunky freshman was eager to be a part of his little hole-in-the-wall café. While he’d never had hired help before, he couldn’t ignore her enthusiasm or deny that more help would mean more operating hours. He also had to admit that his body had just grown too tired to run the café solo anymore. The stocky young woman with the septum piercing, gauged ears, and dedication to all things fair trade and organic helped him keep up with the trends of his young customer base.

“But we might get a few groups meeting to do some after summer catch-up—“

“Shit!” The sudden profanity alerted Gabe towards the door where a young moose of a man struggled to regain his limbs after tripping on the front step.

“Welcome to The Cherubim,” Biff rolled her eyes, not even bothering to turn around and face the door.

“You all right there? Or did your two left feet betray you,” Gabe chuckled, grabbing a deli glove and stuffing a few ice cubes in it. “Here, put this on your ankle, just in case.” As he came around the counter with the make-shift ice pack, the new comer managed to stand, towering over the café owner by a good nine inches. “Woah, I guess it’s true what they say. The bigger they are—“

“Excuse me,” a young brunette woman squeezed past them in the doorway, “yes, I’d like a skinnycaramelmacchiatowithextracaramel,” she shot off at Biff before either of them had reached the register. “And make sure to stir it this time. You guys never stir it.” The woman glanced back at the recovering man impatiently, as if he was embarrassing her. Her oversized sweater fell from her shoulder with the movement.

The younger barista shot her boss a pleading look before entering the order on the screen. Gabe smirked at her and shrugged, trying not to laugh. She countered him with an angry ‘you owe me’ pout before turning a smile up at the woman.  “For here or—“

“For here,” the customer flipped her hair over her shoulder and started rummaging through her Bolivian-made shoulder bag.  The tall man gave Gabe a quick thank you before limping over to stand by her.

Biff grabbed a clean mug and wrote the order out in shorthand using a chalk marker. “Will that be everything?” She took a deep calming breath as the woman took a lipgloss out of her bag and started applying it.

“Yes, that’s all.” She finally responded, dropping the gloss back into her bag.

“Okay, that’ll be three fifty.” She had to tug at her ear gauges to keep from audibly sighing as the woman rummaged through her bag again for her wallet.

“Anything for you, Sasquatch?” Gabe smiled up at the man as he returned to his spot behind the counter.

“I, uh, don’t really do coffee.”

“Well then, don’t get coffee, simple!” Gabe swapped places with Biff as she went to prepare the woman’s drink. “Here, we’ll start with easy questions. Hot, iced, or frozen?”

“Hot, I think.”

“Okay. Now a litter harder. Ready? Sweet, fruity, chocolatey, nutty and/or spicy. Wait, any allergies?”

“No allergies. Sweet and nutty sounds good.”

“Aww, you think I sound good. All right, you big schmoozer, I’ll make you something you love. Two dollars sound fair?”

The man chuckled, pulling his card from his pocket, “yeah, sounds fair.”

“Coming right up!” As Gabe swiped the card, he glanced at the name: _Samuel Winchester_. “Here you go. I’ll have it for you on the pickup counter in a jiff.”

As he prepped the drink, Gabe snuck glances at the towering man from around the espresso machine. Sam was tall—like, supernaturally tall—and modestly dressed. His plaid shirt was buttoned just enough to be classy, and unbuttoned just enough to show the collar of a black undershirt. The contrast between Sam and his apparent girlfriend (apparent from the way she hung from his arm like it was a monkey bar) was almost painful to observe. The clean-cut man looked so serious next to his bohemian-hipster girlfriend.

When Gabe handed the drink up, Sam gave him a smile and a thank you before the woman dragged him upstairs with her.

 _Clean-cut_ and _polite. Must be a church boy._ Gabe groaned.

When their footsteps faded from the stairs, Biff finally blew her steam. “God, I hate that bitch! She was in my portraits class last year. Name’s Sarah. She’s one of those chicks who are totally stuck up but go out and buy fair trade bags just to make themselves feel saintly. Not that they even care about South America. They’d probably complain that the children smelled too bad and ask where the nearest Urban Outfitters is.”

Gabe granted his employee an empathetic annoyed look before going out to clean tables.

The Cherubim Café had been his baby for almost ten years. He had wanted an outlet for his love of sweets, a place to share his superior taste with the world. When the bank on the corner of College Avenue and 5th Street went out and the building was for sale, it didn’t take much for him to throw his entire savings account on it.

It took some work, but he managed to turn the narrow downstairs into the body of the café. The work area ran along the inside wall where the tellers used to be. Five small, round tables sat in front of the wall of windows looking out onto 5th street. The short wall at the front of the shop faced College Avenue. The glass door and big front windows looked out onto the sidewalk, where three more tables sat collecting sunshine. 

When he’d finished wiping down the downstairs tables, Gabe turned his attention to the stairs. He could hear Sarah and Sam laughing and talking upstairs. He was hesitant to go up and check for trash. If they were having couple time and noticed him, it would result in some dreadful awkward silence. If they didn’t notice him, he’d get that strange dehumanized slave feeling as he went around in silence.

“God, young couples,” he groaned. “Why do they have to go out in public? Why can’t they just stay home and fuck until they’re tired of each other?” He glanced at Biff hopefully.

“If you send me up there, I won’t promise that her sorry excuse for dreadlocks won’t mysteriously catch fire.”

“I didn’t even notice they were supposed to be dreads.” He resigned himself and started up the stairs.

The stairs led up to the old bank offices. Gabe had trashed the cubicles and hopped from garage sale to yard sale looking for decent bug-free couches to furnish the area. He’d contacted the university art program with an offer to display and sell student art on the oppressively bare walls. With a few donations, he’d even managed to set up a tiny library and a window seat in the corner overlooking the intersection.

Behind a closed door upstairs, where the bank’s safe used to sit, Gabe had set up his own little living area. While the zoning didn’t allow him to officially live there, he still kept a fold-out futon and a few changes of clothes just in case.

Gabe took a breath as he came around the corner, ready for the most disgusting exhibit of PDA. He let it out in relief as the two sat on opposite sides of a couch, comparing syllabi. A short stack of art books sat in front of the girl—Sarah? They looked to be crisp, new copies of world art and architecture. Sam sported a proud tower of law books, all used, some on the brink of falling apart.

Nestled against Sam’s foot slept a tiny black mutt in a ridiculous angel costume. Gabe’s arrival caused the dog to stir. As soon as the sleepy pup realized who the newcomer was, it transformed into a little wriggling ball of energy.

“Hey Fred, there’s my buddy. Are you keeping the law upstairs?” Gabe squatted to pet the dog as his stumpy legs carried him across the room at a speed physics shouldn’t have allowed.

Sam noticed him at the pup’s excited panting, giving him a big smile. “You have good taste. Whatever you made for me, it’s great.”

It took a moment for Gabe to respond, busying himself in picking Fred up and calming him down. He hadn’t prepared for them to _talk_ to him. Couples don’t usually _talk_ to outsiders. They tend to just try to will them away so that they can continue with the goo-goo eyes. “Uh, yeah. I’m pretty good at concocting custom drinks based on the person.”

“Well, what is it, so that I can order it again.”

At this the older man gave a taunting grin, setting the wiggling fur ball down. Fred made a bee-line to Sam’s feet, begging to be lifted onto his lap. “You just come in and order your usual and I’ll make it for you. I can’t have you off spouting my secret recipes at—heaven forbid— _Starbucks_.”

With a challenging smirk, Sam shifted his body more towards Gabe, picking up the pup and ignoring Sarah’s annoyance at having couple time interrupted. “So that’s how you form customer commitment? Hold their favorite drinks hostage?”

“Only the cute customers.” He winked and disappeared behind the closed door, laughing to himself as he heard Sarah’s eagerness to reclaim the center of attention, laughter fading to a tired sigh. “Well fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caramel macchiatos are commonly ordered by people who see "caramel" and "fancy word" and go for it. Very few of these people know what this drink actually is. "Macchiato" means "marked" or "stained." A caramel macchiato is vanilla flavored milk that has been "stained" with a shot of espresso poured into the foam on top and "marked" with caramel. It is a layered vanilla drink that is literally "caramel marked."
> 
> Ordering it with extra caramel and complaining that they're too lazy to stir it gives the customer away as ignorant. What they actually want is a caramel latte.
> 
> A plain macchiato is just espresso marked with either milk foam or whipped cream. You don't know how tempting it is to give that to people who order "a macchiato."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's second and third visit to the shop, Gabe still can't find an opening to talk to him.

**Chapter 2**

After a week, the local students seemed to have gotten their sea legs back and found their designated free time to come to the café.  Apparently, the entire university had their break from classes at the same time.

“Biff! You’re piling me up!” The number of marked cups crowding Gabe’s work space left him unable to set his current work on the counter to stir.

“Sorry! – Hi, what’ll it be? – But the line is out the – That’ll be two fifty – door –thank you, it’ll be ready on the pickup counter in a few minutes – and every time—“ She took her hands off the register and started to turn to help.

“Cappuccino extra dry.”

“… every time I try to leave the register, I get interrupted… Is that everything for you today? That’d be perfect with one of our almond biscotti.”

Gabe felt a little swell of pride when the girl’s smile didn’t waver. He could only hope that this crowd, being smart enough to get into university, was smart enough to observe that they were packed and their orders would take longer than usual.

Laughter.

Gabe’s attention snapped to the door. Even over the din of students, that quiet chuckle rung out like it was perfectly tuned for his ears to pick up.

Sam noticed him, a jolt of joy lighting up his face at Gabe’s recognition. And when Gabe ventured a smile and a wave, he received a big goofy grin in return.  _Dammit, Gabe. He’s either going to think you’re grade A at customer service or a total creep for remembering him after one visit._  He chewed his lip a bit to keep focus on his orders. “ _Total creep” would totally win if he knew I snagged his name from his credit card._

The heat of summer still clung to early September. Most of the drinks in the queue were the frozen blended drinks, which had him focused on the backbar with the blenders and dish sink, as the blender pitchers needed rinsed after each drink. Amid the marked glasses used for iced and frozen drinks, a mug had made its way to the front of the line.

‘Whatever you made for Sasquatch last time’ Biff had written across the side.

_His name is Sam, but I don’t know that._ Gabe reminded himself.  _Samsquatch. I need to learn his name so that I can call him Samsquatch._ He turned to place the drink up onto the counter and there was Sarah, bodily blocking the rest of the crowd from the counter, as if she were the only order in the queue.

“Your boyfriend’s drink.” He nodded towards Sam, who had taken to standing in the back where there was room to breathe.

“Thanks. I got the iced chai.”

_Yep,_ the  _iced chai. The only one. In this whole crowd._ “Yep! It’s coming up in a jiff.” He gave her the most charming smile he could manage before grabbing the first glass labeled ‘chai’ he found.

“Just a reminder, Gabe, I have class in forty five. I have to leave here in fifteen.” Biff pursed her lips regretfully.

He looked over at Biff’s line, which had thankfully shrunk. Hopefully most people also had class in the same block, leaving the rest of the evening blissfully mellow.

“Well, it seems that your entire university has already come in for their caffeine fix. Let me finish this pile and I’ll take over for you.” Behind her, he could see Sam and Sarah making their way up the stairs. He allowed himself a little sigh of regret.  _Samsquatch will have to wait if I’m going to be tied to register for his entire visit._

\---

Saturdays were blissful for a study spot in a college town. While the students were busy partying and unwinding, The Cherubim Café was able to close in the afternoon.  No need to be open Saturday night if nobody was going to study until Sunday. If they were going to procrastinate with their workload, then Gabe could too. Biff had her own key, so he let her handle the small morning shift while he allowed himself a day off every week.

The morning started with a face full of smelly fur ball slobbering on him.

“God! Fred!” Gabe shot awake, ushering the dog away from his pillows. “It’s about time to get you groomed, isn’t it?” He tried to find the dog’s eyes under all the floppy fur, smiling when the pup tried to wrestle his hands. “Come on, it’ll be first on our errands. Can’t have the owner of the renowned Cherubim smelling like dog piss.”

 The Manchester –Yorkie-Shih Tzu mystery dog had turned into the shop’s mascot after Gabriel brought him in and gave him run of the upstairs, away from the food service area, where no health inspector could complain. He’d even put the shop in Fred’s name. Well, in the late Fred the First’s name. Some things just had to be done to escape prying family eyes.

“Come on. If you promise not to wet your crate, I’ll even have Mrs. Richardson paint your nails.”

Gabriel’s apartment sat on top of his landlord’s on 4th street. The kindly old woman was the first to encourage Gabe on his business venture, the two spending long hours baking in her kitchen and sharing recipes.  She allowed him to live there off the record, to keep his name untraceable on the city books. At the bottom of the rickety metal stairs leading up the side of the building to his door sat his bicycle chained to the railing. He carried the wiggling terrier in a little carrier, securing it on the back of the street bike.

The bike worked well in the small town. His shop was only around the corner and a block down College Avenue.  Fred’s vet and groomer, Mrs. Amelia Richardson, was a block across the avenue next to the dog park.  The only time he needed to go a distance was to visit the restaurant supply store the next town over. On those few occasions, he sweet talked Cas or Balth into giving him a ride.

“Amelia! I have a little stinkball for you!” Gabe held Fred up for the woman as she came out of the back of the shop.

“Oh! You’ve brought me my favorite little angel!” She scooped him out of Gabe’s arms. “Oh goodness, what have you gotten into? Where did all this hair come from? I’ll have him spick and spam in an hour. After that, I’ll keep him in the playpen until whenever you come for him. No rush.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll.” With his most winning smile, he ducked out the door and returned home.

His pajama bottoms and wife beater were sitting warm and waiting in the dryer for him. A variety of sweet malt beverages sat in the refrigerator door. Grabbing a peach flavor, Gabe settled down to enjoy a lazy afternoon.

Or it would have been if he had thought to turn off his phone.

“Yes Biff.”

“Hey, sorry. Sasquatch is here. I don’t know his drink.”

“Don’t say another word, I’ll be right over.” Downing the rest of his drink, Gabe ran down the stairs, not even bothering to take the chain off of the railing when he undid his bike.

He arrived at the café, liquor sloshing in his belly, with the sudden realization that he was still in his “muy caliente” pajama pants. The chili peppers smiled up at him, taunting from under their little sombreros. With a deep breath, he got ready to play it off.  _I ran across town, on my day off, just to make his drink. Didn’t even bother to change. That should be impressive or touching or whatever enough._

“Heeyy Sasquatch!” He sauntered past the tall man, washing his hands in the hand sink before moving behind the counter. “Your usual today? Sorry, I might trust Biff with my baby, but not with my men.”  _Dammit._

Thankfully, Sam laughed. “Yes please.”

Sarah shot Gabe a snide smile as she wrapped herself around Sam’s arm. He let her stay there, but continued without acknowledging the jealous clinging.

“You didn’t have to come in on your day off, you know. I could’ve gotten something else.”

“And deprive me of your pretty face? You’re just being cruel now.”

“If it’s that cruel, maybe I’ll just come straight to your place on Saturdays instead.”

_God. Fucking. Dammit._

“Here you go!” With a big smile, Gabe handed up the mug. “We’re closing in an hour, just as a heads up.” He tried to make his way up the stairs as nonchalantly as he could. When he realized he couldn’t keep his back to Sam the entire way, he grabbed a serving tray. His precious pajama pants had begun to betray exactly how he felt about Sam coming to his apartment.

While covering himself with the tray gave him the “shy waitress” look, it was better than “this is your third time here and I stole a peek at your name and memorized it. Also I’m about to go whack off to your shoulder-to-waist ratio.”

All Sam could manage was a confused look before Gabe rushed the stairs and locked himself in his makeshift bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serious scholarly business types have no reason to go to bohemian coffee shops without their artist girlfriends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's university is never getting a name because I want to build my own town, not depend on the google maps of one I've never visited.

**Chapter 3**

After a while, Gabriel resigned himself to accepting Sam’s leash.

There were some people who just came in twos. And if they ever did break up, there was little chance that studious, serious Sam would be the one to keep the hole-in-the-wall bohemian coffee shop tradition.  He was obviously studying law (not that Gabe would admit to snooping) and was bound to be a straight-backed office type. That type didn’t just _come_ here unless they had an artist girlfriend who demanded fair-trade, organic South American blends and local artists on the wall.

The sharp contrast between future-three-piece-suit and his future-starving-artist girlfriend had always irked Gabe. As did Sarah’s terrible treatment of the service industry verses Sam’s humanitarianism. If Sam hadn’t noticed she was a horrible person already, the blinders of infatuation were bound to come off soon. And after that, well, after that Gabe would likely be stuck with a Samless Sarah. He could think of little worse.

It didn’t take a lot of imagination when Sarah came into the shop on her own that Monday. She was a fury. For all the misery in her personality, having Sam around must’ve dulled it. Without him, it took all of Gabe’s patience to politely remind her that the back of the line was behind the other five people at the register.

“So, where’s the man-candy today?” He tried to remain easy going as the flustered woman came to the front of the line.

“I don’t fucking know, off doing law school stuff. Getting his cheap department store suit tailored. Off being another tool of the system used to oppress the everyman. I don’t fucking care. Iced caramel macchiato to go.” She shoved her card at him.

“Gladly. Tell him I said ‘hi’ for me, ‘kay?”

“Yeah.”

 _And so the infatuation fades. At least on her side._ Gabriel sighed as he watched the last knots of brown dreads disappear around the corner.

As much as he hated Sarah, as badly as he wanted Sam to be single, Gabriel’s heart sank further and further the more he thought of it. The tall handsome man was currently dating a girl: so he’s most likely straight. The date-a-free-spirit thing was probably a phase that won’t be repeated when he concludes that there’s just too much contrast with artists. While Gabe himself was no artist, it couldn’t be helped that Sam was in a whole other tier of society.

_Plus he’s a kid. I can’t forget that. He’s just a kid with his whole life of success in front of him. A successful law firm, a McMansion and a pretty little blonde thing with huge tits._

“Earth to Gabe,” Biff prodded him with the handle of a twisted stirring spoon. “I swear, if you keep day dreaming like this, I’m gonna have Fred fire you.”

“I’ll just bribe him with a new chew toy,” he chuckled, eyes drifting up to the opening door.

“Welcome to the Cheru—“

“Hey there, Sasquatch!” Gabe couldn’t hide his grin. _Here without Sarah. He’s here without Sarah. Which means he could continue coming here without Sarah. Unless… unless he’s here looking for her?_ The realization hit him as he saw Sam glancing around nervously. “You missed your little hurricane miss. She scurried out of here about an hour ago.”

“Thanks,” he let out a sigh. The relief across Sam’s face gave Gabe’s stomach a little butterfly flutter.

“Here, I’ll make you your drink. Go ahead and sit at a table, she’ll never think to look for you there.”

“Thanks, here,” he went to reach for his wallet before Gabe waved him away.

“I gotcha. Go sit nice for me. It’s been slow today and maybe your pretty face will attract a crowd.”

Sam sat by the window as asked, setting up his laptop and a few books on the table. Between bookmarking pages with sticky notes and jotting notes down on the computer, Gabe could have sworn he caught Sam watching him work.

It was a nice daydream, thinking that Sam was admiring the artistry and passion Gabriel put into his work. He tried not to check to see if Sam was paying attention, not wanting to scare those hazel eyes away by meeting them. He held himself a little taller, showing how his fitted button up followed the curve of his back. He took a step away from the espresso machine to clean the portafilter, pretending he needed to hold it up to the light to clean under the filter basket. He wanted to show how much care he took in his work, how through and dexterous he could be. _This is serious,_ he willed Sam to realize. _This isn’t some free spirit art, it’s an artistic science. This could be something you want._

 In a few hours, Gabe and Biff had completed their daily cleaning schedules along with some added busy work. When it become evident that study rush wouldn’t be coming that night, Gabe sent Biff home. It wasn’t at all so that he could be alone with Sam. Not at all. It wasn’t to escape Biff’s teasing if she noticed his little crush. And he totally didn’t switch off the “open” light. It must have burnt out.

 _Oh, and it would be a shame if these sweets went stale._ He grabbed a tray of dessert breads and tiny cakes, bringing them over to Sam’s table, plopping himself into the seat across from him.

“All work and no sugar made Sasquatch move to Russia,” he teased over the computer screen. “Though I hear moose thrive there as well. You wouldn’t happen to be Russian, would you?”

“No, I’ve got all the time in the world.” Sam lifted his eyes from his computer with a challenging smirk.

 _Name!_ Gabe felt his smile falter. _I can’t just ask for it, it’s weird after so many meetings. Would it still be weird if I just…?_ “Touché. Gabriel.” He held out his hand.

“Sam.” Sam’s much larger hand enveloped Gabes almost completely. He didn’t know what else he expected. Of course the guy would have gigantic hands. But he hadn’t expected his palms- and especially his fingers- to be so cold.

“The AC cranked up too high in here? No wonder you always get your drink hot.”

“Oh, sorry,” he withdraw his hand sheepishly, “unfortunate side effect of having long limbs. Bad circulation. My muscles take it all on the way.”

 _His… dear God._ Gabe had noticed the shoulders before. He had noticed the general volume of the shirt. But it wasn’t until he was up close like this that he noticed the rippling activity under the fabric. He could make a map of those arms, follow them like a landscape of hills, journeying up to the visible tendons of the neck. Not a hint of extra fat. _Not a hint of aging._

Within a heartbeat, he went from ridiculously turned on to being hyper aware of the softness of his cheeks, the slight sagging of his neck, and the lines of his face made obvious by his smile.

But dammit all, he wasn’t out of the game yet. Gabe adjusted himself sideways in the seat, leaning against the window with an arm over the back of the chair. “So,” he grabbed a piece of bread smothered in icing, “what’cha studying so intently, Sam-I-am?”

“Engel verses Vitale, 1962, on prayer in public schools. The actual case was based on the school sponsoring the prayer. It’s often twisted and misinterpreted to make it seem like they were trying to oppress the individual’s right to express religious beliefs in public.”

“Law school?”

“Pre-law. I’m still just an undergrad junior. I’m thinking a minor in mythology or theology, so the subject seemed a good idea for my GO225 midterm.”

“Minor in—well, that’s a weird combination.”

“Dad was a bit of a religious nut.” Sam’s eyes dropped back to his work as he nibbled on a piece of nut bread.

 _Okay, so those were toes. Not a good place to tread._ Gabriel let a beat of silence fall. “So what’s your thesis?”

“Personal opinions aside, I wanted to fight for the side that lost. It makes it more interesting to the professor, so I’m more likely to stand out and get a better grade. I’m taking a confederate defense. I’m claiming each school as a ‘small state’ with its right to self govern. Most schools get most of their income from local taxes, so they should hold tighter to the local climate than federal.”

“Little Devil’s advocate, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like to follow laws blindly. You don’t know what you’re missing otherwise.”

“Nothing wrong with a little experimentation,” Gabe winked and went to get himself a coffee. As he walked around to get a few pumps of white chocolate, the clock on the register showed 10:45pm. Fifteen minutes to close. “Hey, feel free to stay. Hope you don’t mind me counting out and locking up in a few. I have inventory to do, so you can stay as late as you want and keep me company.”

“Oh, wow, that late already? I should be headed back. I need to sleep for my morning class.”

“Are you holed up in a dorm? I’d rather not have to worry about you walking back to campus at this hour. There’s a spare bed in the back if you wanna camp out ‘til morning.”

“I’ll be fine. I have a motorcycle and an apartment on Seventh Street.”

“A motorcycle? Didn’t I just ask you not to worry me?”

“I’ve got my helmet and it’s a short distance. And it’s only because it’s cheap. I’m not one of those jerks who speed down the shoulder to get around traffic.” Sam tossed him a charming smile. “Have some faith in me, Gabe.”

“Just be safe, okay?” Gabriel retreated behind the counter reluctantly as he watched Sam pack his bag. “Here, I’ll bag a bagel for you for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Oh, thanks.” He grabbed the paper bag and headed out the door, Gabe following to lock up after him. Sam turned and waved before turned the corner. Gabe gave a weak wave back until the younger man disappeared.

Then he stepped out the door and locked it behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel falls back on an old friend to help prepare of Sam's inevitable break up. Sam falls back on Dean and now owes him a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write very tiny chapters where not a lot happens... sorry. This is probably best read a few chapters at a time.

**Chapter 4**

“Biiiiiiiiff…” Gabriel whined, dramatically throwing himself against the doorway from the backroom to the café.

“Gaaaaaabe.” The 19-year-old monotoned back.

“I forgot to order toffee nut and twelve ounce cups.”

“And sliced almonds, stirrers, small gloves… well, maybe if you did inventory last week you would have ordered more than chocolate syrup.”

“You’re a bully, you know that? I’m callin’ Cas to take me to Rogers.”

“You’d think you’d have a car at your age.”

“Well, actually, I own my own business instead, thank you very much.” He shot off a text before giving her a tired look, holding his phone in his palm. As he expected, it started to vibrate with a phone call. “Too old fashioned to text—‘ello! Hey Castiel! Something went wrong with our shipment and I was wondering if you could take me to Rogers. You know, that restaurant store downtown? Thanks, you’re a pal.”

“It’s amazing you still have friends.”

“Rude.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you have a date. So unless you’re bangin’ Cas—“

“Why, I would never ‘bang’ the oh holy Godly one.” Gabriel looked comically aghast as he back out of the front door, gripping his chest dramatically.

He sat out on the patio, enjoying some sunshine until the old blue Pontiac pulled up. The engine made a concerning knocking sound under the hood and the entire thing smelled like burning oil, but Cas didn’t see a reason to replace it when it was “still running just fine.” Not like Gabe could really talk.

“Hey, thanks.” He shuffled into the worn cloth seat, holding the broken door latch open in order to shut the door. “You’re a life saver.”

“Was it really imperative that you have these supplies now? You wouldn’t have survived until the next order?” Cas gave him a deadpan, unamused look.

“There’s a… a regular customer who gets his drink with toffee. Can’t risk disappointing him. He might leave me for Saxbys or something.”

“All this trouble for a customer.” The car lurched as Cas turned it back into traffic. “This is coming from the man whose business motto is ‘fuck it.’”

“You should be encouraging me, you big bully.”

“Congratulations on actually caring about something.”

“Thank you, Cassie. You’re a real pal.”

Roger’s Restaurant Store sat behind some small businesses and houses on the interstate. Cas’ car groaned as he forced it across the dips and bumps of the gravel driveway. The men grabbed a cart on the way in.

Gabe blanked at the aisles. “Shit. I didn’t make a list.”

“Text Biff? I’m sure she has it memorized.”

“Naw, fuck it. If I don’t remember it, it can’t be too important.”

“Isn’t that the whole reason you’re here?” Cas mumbled after Gabe, who had already started off to the syrup aisle.

They’d made it through the food stuffs aisles and started on paper products when Gabriel’s phone started to buzz.

“Biff? Did I forget something else?”

“I’m sure you did, but I have other news. That Sarah bitch who’s always with your eye candy? She’s here right now with some punk guy. A customer just came down to tell me they were starting to get hot and heavy on a couch upstairs. They were acting completely innocent when they were around me.  I’m guessing the guy is supposed to be a secret from people who know she’s with Sam.”

“Well shit. Alright.” He inhaled heavily through his nose while he processed it. “And hey, thanks for letting me know. I’ll be back soon.”

“Of course. Don’t forget to grab some Ben and Jerry’s to keep on hand. And condoms.”

“Crude.” He hung up and turned the cart to the registers.

“Everything okay?” Cas tossed another bag of cups into the cart.

“Yeah, sorry. Some personal drama. Can we stop for ice cream? Kroger is on the way back.”

“Do you also require a slumber party and Nicolas Sparks movies?”

“It’s not for me, but I’ll be sure to suggest the slumber party idea. And just not invite anyone else.  I’m sure there’s an x-rated Notebook parody. Ryan Gosling could ‘nail’ Gena Rowlands and her rich fiancé. Gittit?”

“Gabe. Please be silent.”

\- -

Thursday, two days later, Gabriel was doing inventory in the back when he spotted Sam coming in. He peeked around the doorway as Biff gave Sarah a tight-lipped greeting. Sarah had a queen-bee smirk plastered across her face. Sam just looked tired and forced.  

“Hey Sam-a-lam!” He stepped out of the backroom, waving enthusiastically. And if Sam’s face lit up like a sparked gas tank, Gabe totally noticed, recorded, and archived it for repeated viewing.

“Hey. Hiding in the back?”

“Well, you know, there wasn’t a big strong man here to protect me. I assume it’s safe to show my face now.” Gabriel went right to work on Sam’s drink while Biff took down Sarah’s complicated drink. He glanced up at Sam’s smiling face, fighting down the anger over how badly Sarah was going to hurt him. The longer she played him, the stupider he’d end up feeling.

 _She’s cheating on you_. His hand scrawled across the mug without thinking, purple ink being more honest than any person in the room. As he held the mug under the syrup pump, his resolve faltered. _It’s not my place to say._ He set the mug in the sink and grabbed a clean one. _For all my selfish motives, it’s not my place to tell him._

“Here ya go!” He handed it up. After a moment’s hesitation, he also handed up a piece of walnut bread as well. “This was your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

 _With that fucking sweet smile that doesn’t belong on a man his size. That’s just not fair._ Gabe turned to take the next order before he lost control of his tongue. When he looked back up, the unhappy couple had already disappeared upstairs.

“I guess he hasn’t found out yet.” Biff muttered as the two worked side-by-side to clean up.

“As miserable as they seem, he might not need to. It would probably be better for him to just break it off without ever finding out she was fooling him.”

“Like that’ll happen. They weren’t exactly subtle, coming in here together. Somebody somewhere will attempt the mercy kill.”

“I almost did.”

“Nobody dates the bearer of bad news, Gabe. It makes you look petty.”

“Twenty-year-old law students don’t date thirty-five-year-old baristas.”

Sam and Sarah left just as a calculus study group filed in. Sam gave a wave over the heads of all the people. Gabe tried to smile back, hands full, but he was pretty sure his face was hidden by the crowd. _Dammit. Get back here and give me a proper good-bye you little shit. That wasn’t good enough._

Gabriel gave Biff a quick tap on the shoulder, hoped the group was feeling unadventurous and practical with their orders, and ran out the door.

The air outside was thick with an approaching storm. The clouds overhead reflected lightning strikes from miles away as the growl of thunder shuddered through the buildings. He made it under the street light when the headlights of a black Volkswagen lit the street.

 In the passenger seat, he could see Sam pulling at his seatbelt, obviously defending himself against Sarah as she ranted, rolled her eyes, and started the car. When the already annoyed woman spotted Gabe on the sidewalk, she slapped her steering wheel and shouted at Sam loud enough that the muffled yell could be heard outside the car.

Sam threw the seatbelt back into the wall, opening the door and swinging out of the car so swiftly that Gabe worried about him whacking his head.  He slammed the door as Sarah gave him an indignant look and drove off.

Gabriel gaped at the dramatic departure. “Oh. Well. Sorry, I was just going to wave good bye.”

“It’s fine.” Sam stepped into the street light. He was _blushing._ While it was probably from anger, Gabe cherished it all the same. “You saved me a tiresome ride home.” Sam bounced excitedly, left over adrenaline making him restless. “Shit I don’t have a ride home.”

“Wanna come in and wait for someone to come get you?”

“It’s fine. It’s not far. I could actually use the walk.”

“Don’t be dumb. Come inside for a bit at least.” Gabriel reached out and grabbed the cuff of Sam’s jacket. “With how your night is going, it’ll start pouring just so that you can have your dramatic chick-flick moment.” He started leading the taller man inside.

“If you’re trying to prevent a chick-flick, then why are you holding my hand?”

“This, my dear Sammy boy, is a sleeve.” Gabe dragged Sam’s cuff to eye level to demonstrate. “Or do you really think so little of me that you think I’d be bad at hand holding.” He let go and slipped his hand up to intertwine his fingers with Sam’s. “There, happy?”

“I… don’t know if ‘happy’ is the right word for it.”

“Okay, Mister Hard-to-please,” Gabe released the hand, “Go make yourself comfortable until we figure out what to do with you.” He ushered Sam to the table in the back corner. “If we can’t find a car to take you home, you’ll just have to sit on the back of my bike.”

Sam leveled him with a sour face. “I’ll call my brother. His wife won’t be too happy with me, but I think I’d rather brave the beast than brave any classmates that witness that degradation.”

“That would work. I was going to steal Biff’s car, but with the way she’s looking at me,” he gestured behind the counter where the girl glared without even looking at the drink she was making, “she’s still upset that I abandoned her during a rush to chase after you. I don’t know if any amount of bribery would help me right now.”

“You really didn’t have to do that. I mean, you really shouldn’t do that to your employees.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. When she’s cooled off tomorrow, I’ll give her a ton of free stuff to take back to her dorm to have a fair-trade organic tea party with all of her little neo-hippie friends. Then I’ll be the best boss ever again.”

“Clever trick,” Sam shook his head, reaching into his pocket for his phone. _An expensive smart phone_ , Gabe noted, _he really is destined to be a white collar douche. What a waste._ After sliding his fingers across the glass a few times, Sam lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, Dean, listen…I know it’s Ben’s bedtime and all, but can you come pick me up when the kid’s asleep? Yeah… yeah I know! Can you just—thanks.”

“All set?” Gabe called over from where he’d gone to count restock the condiment bar.

Sam lifted his head with a weak smile and a shrug. “Yeah. I just have to pay him back in ‘family bonding time’ with him and Dad.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound good. The bike offer is still up for grabs.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” the smile came back, much to Gabe’s pride. “I can’t avoid them forever and it’s better now than having to deal with more years of resentment.”

“Good luck there, you’re a much braver man than me.”

“He’s putting my nephew to bed right now, but he’ll be on his way right after. He’s about forty-five minutes away. I hope you don’t mind if I loiter for a bit.”

“Heaven forbid. If you get too bored, feel free to grab a broom or something and help clean up. It’s still two hours to close, but it’s one less thing to do later.”

“Sorry, I actually have—I have stuff.” Sam held up his book bag.

“Of course, O studious one. I’ll leave you to it. Upstairs is comfier but currently populated by a frustrated calc class.”

“In that case,” he unzipped his bag and started unloading books. “I’ll stay tucked in my corner here while I await my fate.”

Gabriel gave a quiet nod, heading back behind the counter to prepare for the nine-thirty rush. He count hope it wouldn’t come. He was actually pretty close to praying. But it did anyway, almost as if to spite him.

At ten o’clock, almost on the dot, a tall man in his mid-twenties entered the shop alone. Sam rose apologetically to greet him. If the two of them hadn’t towered over the crowd of college kids, Gabriel wouldn’t have even seen them leave. Sam was too focused on his brother and obviously anxious about whatever ‘family time’ entailed to even leave Gabe with a wave.

Gabriel tried to go the rest of the night without letting his anger out at customers even though he blamed them collectively for his position. Rationally, he knew they were just a bunch of individual paying customers looking for caffeine. But at the moment they were an army dead set on keeping him from Sam.

And he hated them.


End file.
